


loss pulling the strings

by protect_rosie



Series: forget me not [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst, Families of Choice, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Mental Health Issues, Mental Illness, Mentions of Murder, Symptoms of Depression, Team as Family, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:16:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9303764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protect_rosie/pseuds/protect_rosie
Summary: It all starts the first day of winter.





	1. my worst enemy is me

**Author's Note:**

> im so excited to be posting this! as im posting, im working on getting the rest done. i have a posting schedule that im pretty confident i will follow.
> 
> when i first wrote [ubd](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7790743), i didnt think id be expanding on it but then i wrote [tpwp](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8956321) and [thwbmh](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9082480), and the support/feedback for it was seriously so amazing, thank u so much to everyone who has read all of those pieces!!! if u havent read them [heres the series link](http://archiveofourown.org/series/608842) so u can read them in order bc this piece will make more sense if u read those previous ones.
> 
> anyway im so happy to announce that this will be an ongoing project through the year and u can definitely expect more parts to the series!
> 
> titles from _570_ by motionless in white
> 
> i hesitate to say this story has a very “realistic” tone to it
> 
> hope u guys enjoy!
> 
> {see the end for translations and misc. stuff, small warning though for some minor spoilers}

Sometimes a person wakes up sad and there’s nothing they can do about it, they can’t just  _ shake it off,  _ can’t forget about or ignore it. It’s a feeling that consumes them, doesn’t let them do  _ anything  _ without reminding them that it’s there. The sadness just keeps growing bigger and bigger, taking up every action in their daily lives. The sadness becomes like this invisible entity that makes a person feel weighed down, unable to believe any good thing that anyone else tells them. 

Nicky has come to learn that the hardest way.

It all starts the first day of winter: he wakes up and stares at the ceiling, something sitting heavy on his chest, something ugly. He tries to push it aside, but it follows him to the bathroom. When he looks in the mirror, it manifests itself in the feeling that Nicky absolutely  _ hates  _ what he sees in the mirror; his face is too round, his hair is uneven, ends dead and dry, his facial hair makes him look like he just climbed out of a trashcan. 

How can Alex still love him when he looks like this?  _ Does _ Alex still love him, or does he just pretend to because they’re married now?

Just thinking that Alex might be faking his affection makes Nicky dizzy, nauseous. He doesn’t want anyone to take pity on him, it’s not what he’s been working his whole life for; he wants people to recognize him for who he is and tell him the truth, always. Being pitied hurts, because it forces him to face the fact that he’s not as strong as he once was. 

Nicky doesn’t hear Alex come in, too wrapped up in his own thoughts. 

“ _ Kolya,”  _ Alex says, leaning against the door frame. “Hear you come in, then start to hear you breathe funny.  _ Ty v poryadke?” _

“I’m fine,” Nicky replies, and ok, it comes out a little more harshly than he intends, but by the time he turns to apologize, Alex is already back in the room. Nicky hurries out of the bathroom, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that. I’m fine, I promise.” 

Alex picks up his ring from the bed, and shows it to Nicky. “You know what this means?” he asks, waving the ring, slightly. “It means we bonded for life. It also means that I know you a lot, more than anybody else. I know when you lie, when you angry, when you happy. I know things not so good for Family right now, but it’s not your fault.”

_ It’s not your fault,  _ should make Nicky feel better, especially coming from Alex but it doesn’t. Nicky doesn’t say so, though. Instead, he gets in bed with Alex and lets the weight on his chest slowly suffocate him. 

//

The feeling doesn’t ease in the morning. In fact, it gets worse; seeing everyone - including Holtby and Andre, who are supposed to be broken up - smile and laugh, like there’s not a care in the world, makes him want to start pulling his hair out and screaming, asking them to  _ please tell me what’s wrong with me, I can’t do this by myself, I don’t know what’s going on - help me.  _ But. He doesn’t.

He smiles, pretends there’s nothing wrong, and goes on with the day.

Family business won’t take care of itself, and it certainly won’t wait until the weight on Nicky’s chest dissipates. 

//

Closing out a deal usually makes Nicky feel light, happy that he’s able to help the Family in yet another way. This time, though, it doesn’t make him feel like anything. Closing out a deal makes him feel like he’s done another thing, and just that, nothing more, nothing less. It’s as if he’d stayed behind at home, watching tv.

He shakes the hands of the Hershey Family, and leaves.

//

Nicky can’t sleep that night. 

The feeling just keeps getting worse as the night goes on, a feeling of restlessness settling itself under his skin. Tears start stinging at his eyes, and that’s when he realizes he needs to go, that he needs a break - from closing out deals, from the Family, maybe even from Alex himself. Nicky feels like he needs time to just be by himself, to find himself again, to find the feeling he had when he first joined the Family. 

He rolls out of bed, being very careful to not wake Alex; he really doesn’t need him asking questions right now. 

Nicky grabs enough clothes for three days, and sneaks out of the bedroom. He walks down the hallway to Marcus’ bedroom, and knocks lightly.

Marcus opens the door, his hair is standing on one side and there’s an imprint of a pillow on his right cheek. 

_ “ _ _ Vad händer,”  _ he says, idly scratching his chest.

_ “Jag lämnar för ett par dagar,”  _ Nicky replies. “ _ Jag kommer att hålla kontakten, du inte berätta för någon.” _

_ “Vart ska du?”  _ he asks, now more awake.  _ “Är du okej?” _

_ “Jag bra bara inte berätta för någon, okej?” _

_ “Okej.” _

Nicky trusts Marcus.

//

Before he leaves the house, he makes sure to grab his going-out-by-myself wallet.

//

Nicky checks into a nearby hotel, with specific instructions to not let anyone up to his room and to not allow any calls to come through, either. He wants to be alone, no distractions so he can gather his thoughts and maybe, just maybe, go back to the way he used to be. 

He settles into the room quickly, taking his phone out of the front left pocket as he sits on the chair near the window.

_ im at the hyatt near 43 and centre,  _ he texts Marcus, hoping he’ll see it soon,  _ dont tell anyone, rmbr what we talked abt _

He tosses the phone on the bed and looks out the window. He’s still very close to home, but everything looks so different, looks as if he’s in another country. The sights and sounds that he’s come to love over the years suddenly feel so foreign, so unusual. It doesn’t really feel like home, even though D.C. has been home for about ten years now.

A red bird settles itself in front of the window when Nicky starts to wonder when D.C. stopped feeling like home. 

//

Nicky wakes up from a nap, both by his grumbling stomach and the incessant noise coming from his cellphone. There’s a crick in his neck that he tries to get rid of, but ultimately makes it worse by the slow, calculate movements of his head.

The phone doesn’t stop ringing, though.

It’s Marcus.

“Hello?” Nicky asks when he answers. 

“Alex has been asking for you all day,” he says, a tense tilt to his voice. “How long are you planning on being away? I don’t know if I’m going to be able to hold him off for long.”

“I don’t know, maybe three days or-”

“Three days?”

“-something like that,” Nicky finishes. “I’m not right, Jo, I’m not right. I just need a bit of time to myself. You understand that, right?”

Marcus sighs, “ _ Ja,  _ I understand. I can help keep him at bay for three days, only. I don’t know how much I can do after that.”

“That’s all the time I need.”

He doesn’t know that for sure, but it’s all he can manage.

“Ok. And Nick?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t take too long, ok? Alex needs you here. I need you here, the whole family does. You’re so important to all of us. You and Abby are my best friends, I can’t  _ not  _ have one of you here. I love you, please be safe, ok?”

“Ok. Bye Marcus.”

“Bye.”

The conversation leaves Nicky feeling fatigued, so he lays on the bed closest to him and closes his eyes. 

//

When he wakes up, Nicky goes down to the hotel gym, wanting to get the blood flowing in hopes that it will make him feel at least somewhat better. The guy making eyes at him as he works out boosts his confidence a little, though - he could sleep with the guy if he wanted; he and Alex have an agreement to sleep with whoever they want, as long as they’re both consenting. 

Nicky hasn’t slept with anyone since before he got married to Alex. He doesn’t want to sleep with anyone right now, though, doesn’t have the energy to sleep with anyone. 

Just as he’s about to leave, Dubinsky and a couple of goons in the Columbus Family come in. Nicky knows what this is about - the Washington Family took an important dealer from them, a very important one, last month - but it still makes his heart drop. Dubinsky and the other goons haven’t seen him yet, so he tosses the going-out-by-myself wallet to the guy making eyes at him earlier, and makes a little phone gesture at him. 

He watches the guy nod and pocket the wallet.

Nicky gets on the bike, half-hoping that Dubinsky and his goons won’t notice him if he doesn’t pay attention to them. 

“If it isn’t Washington’s locks of Gold,” Dubinsky says, as the guy sneaks out. “I was wondering when you would come out of your cage. I’m surprised you’re all alone, I didn’t think Alex would let you out of his sight after your little run-in with the Russians.”

“I’m my own person,” Nicky says, keeping his legs moving. “I can do whatever I want, y’know.”

“Oh yeah, want to show me how much of your own person you are?”

“No, I’m good.”

“I don’t think you’re understanding, I said I want you to show me how much of your own person you are. Let’s go for a walk.”

Dubinsky shows Nicky the gun hidden inside his coat.

Nicky goes. 


	2. those lessons learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus doesn’t know when Alex started smoking, but he’s sure it hasn’t been going on for long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u sm to everyone who has been reading and giving kudos to this story! and a special shoutout to rose_indigo_and_tom for commenting on that first chapter! it really means a lot to me to see that so many of u are enjoying this story, it gives me so much motivation to keep writing and posting on time :)
> 
> as im writing up these notes, im about halfway done w the fourth chapter for this specific story and im so excited to share w u guys soon!
> 
> i decided to do this second chapter in marcus’ vantage point to shake things up a bit 
> 
> i hope u guys enjoy!
> 
> titles, as always, from _570_ by motionless in white
> 
> {see end for misc. Stuff}

Marcus is there when Alex receives The Call.

He can immediately tell The Call has something to do with Nicky because Alex immediately goes into his office, steps hurried and harsh. He’s in there for a long time and when he comes out, his eyebrows are drawn together and his mouth is pinched; his face is at least three shades lighter than Marcus has ever seen it. 

“Get Brooks and Holts,” Alex tells Marcus, tapping away on his phone. “Tell them to come to the downstairs office. Get the others to help you make sure everyone safe - we’re, uh, on lockdown.”

Alex takes off his jacket and leaves it on the couch before he disappears down the stairs. 

//

Marcus tries calling Nicky’s phone. He doesn’t answer. 

//

Abby and the other significant others help put the children to sleep; they shouldn’t be around to hear something like this, whatever  _ this  _ even is. 

“We’re going to be on lockdown for a while,” Holts says. “Backy’s gone, and we don’t know who took him, who could have taken him,” he looks at Alex before he continues, “we don’t want to put anybody else at risk, so we’re going to ask that you have limited outside contact. That means: only one call a week during the lockdown, please make it so that the calls are on varied days. For example, if the call you decide to make is on Tuesday this week, next week’s call should be made on a Friday, or Saturday. If anybody, meaning significant others, needs to go out to buy anything, please make sure you have  _ at least two  _ Family members with you at all times; guys, if you’re going out please make sure you have at least one of us with you. That means, for example, if Andy wants to go buy some dinner, they have to take Jay and someone else. This is for the safety of everyone. Does anyone have any questions?”

Andy comes down and huddles up against Jay. They ask, “Is there any limit to how many people can go out at a time?”   


Holts and Brooks look at each other, before Brooks replies, “Not really, but it’d be better if less people would go out at the same time. I would say, six people at a time, at most.”

Everyone nods.

Alex’s eyes are red when he speaks up, “ _ Kolya _ is very important to this Family, to  _ me.  _ If he not come back, or we not find, I quit Family, go back to Russia. Can’t stay here without him.”

The  _ I don’t want to  _ is silent, left unsaid, but everyone hears it. 

“We’ll find him,” Marcus says, confident. “Or whoever took him, and we will make them suffer as much as we’re suffering right now. I swear on my life.”

He hopes Alex believes him. 

//

Marcus tries calling Nicky’s phone again. The call immediately goes to voicemail.

//

The fifth time Nicky doesn’t answer, Marcus realizes something is seriously wrong, more than what Holts had let on. It’s too much, the thought that Nicky could be in danger because he didn’t tell anyone else where he was sooner. 

He rushes out of his room, intent on finding Alex.

Alex is sitting at his desk, clicking away furiously on his computer, phone wedged between his right shoulder and face, speaking in rapid fire Russian. Holts is the same, brows furrowed together. Brooks is pacing around the room, waving his hands around, like the person he’s speaking on the phone with can see him. It’d be hilarious under any other circumstance, seeing Brooks so animated, but right now, it makes him want to go out and search for Nicky under every rock, in every ditch. 

“Alex,” Marcus says. Alex holds up a finger, a signal to him that he needs to wait until the conversation is over. 

Marcus doesn’t have to wait long, Alex hangs up and tells Marcus to speak.

“Can we talk in another room? I really don’t want to disturb them,” Marcus says, nodding in Brooks and Holts’ direction. “It won’t take long, I promise.”

Alex is hesitant, but he goes.

“Come,” Alex gestures. “Outside.”

They make their way down the stairs, quiet so they don’t wake the children, or anybody else that’s sleeping.

Alex lights a cigarette as soon as they’re outside. Marcus doesn’t know when Alex started smoking, but he’s sure it hasn’t been going on for long.  _ When Nicky comes back,  _ Marcus thinks fiercely,  _ he’s going to put an end to that habit.  _ There’s no way he won’t, not when he’s been so against  _ anyone  _ smoking, for as long as Marcus has known him; he’d even gotten Andy to quit only two months after they had gotten together with Jay. 

“Nicky wouldn’t like you smoking,” Marcus begins. “He cares too much about you to let you waste away like that.”

“He’s not here, so,” Alex shrugs, and he says that like he’s angry at Nick, like he believes it’s Nick’s fault that he’s gone. Marcus ignores his tone, Alex has every right to be angry right now. “What you want to say, anyway?”

“Nicky wasn’t ok, you know, before he got taken. He was weird, I don’t know how to explain it, but he said he needed time away to clear his head.” Alex is looking at Marcus in a weird way, like he’s getting ready to fight or fly any time soon, so Marcus continues, “He went to stay at the Hyatt near 43rd and Centre.”

“What?” Alex says, drops his cigarette and steps on it. “Why not say anything before?”

“He didn’t want me to tell you, or anyone, anything. He wasn’t right, he said so himself, but I feel like there was more to it than what he told me, I don’t know.”

Alex is silent; he puts his hands in his hair, faces the sky and lets a long breath out. 

“Hyatt near 43 and Centre?”

Marcus nods.

“Let Holts and Brooks know where we go,” he says, like he’s made his mind up. “Let Abby know where we go, too. Wouldn’t want her to worry sick.”

And just like that, he’s shouldering past Marcus to make his way inside. 

He takes no heat in Alex’s action, after all, there’s work to do. He can’t be dwelling on Alex’s shitty mood, he’s justified in feeling that way, anyway - his Nicky is gone, and no one has a clue to who took him. 

Marcus know the Family will stop at nothing to find Nicky, to bring him back home where he belongs, safe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u again to everyone whos kept up w this story!
> 
> -andy is jays significant other in this (mostly everyone has a made up s/o in this au)  
> -andy is a nb person who’s pronouns are they/them  
> -there will be a chapter on [defy the terms](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9349175/chapters/21176939) written about andy giving you a little background on them  
> -i probably shouldve clarified this before but we’re talking abt brooks orpik not laich, sorry abt that  
> -fun fact: theres actually a street named “centre” around here and i remember bc i thought it was weird bc here we spell it “center” and not “centre”
> 
> **Posting for lpts:**   
>  ~~Part 1 - 12.01.2017~~   
>  _Part 2 - 24.01.2017_   
>  Part 3 - 05.02.2017   
>  Part 4 - 17.02.2017
> 
> theres been a slight change to the posting schedule, the fourth part is set to be uploaded a day earlier than planned, to keep uploading consistent w how everything has been so far (every twelve days)
> 
> comments and kudos are much appreciated! 
> 
> remember u can always reach me over @ bckstrms on tumblr/twitter, id love to chat w all of u!


	3. strip me down, tear me apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If this isn’t the best Russian place, I’m telling Nicky when he gets back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i literally wrote this in two hours and it’s been my favorite chapter so far, so this is for eclecticverse23, bc w out their prompt on ubd this whole thing would have never come to be, so thank u!
> 
> title from _570_ by motionless in white
> 
> {see end for translations and misc. Stuff}

Alex wakes up, and his bed is still empty, has been for what feels like forever, with no signs of stopping any time soon. It makes him feel weak; ever since Nicky joined the Family, he’s been Alex’s source of strength, his source of determination. Now that Nicky’s not there, people’s encouragements and pleas fall on deaf ears. He wants to hear nothing more about how they  _ think  _ Nicky’s ok - Alex wants to  _ see  _ and  _ know _ for himself that the love of his life is ok, that he’s still alive and breathing.

He wants nothing more than to hold Nicky again, to see his face, to hear his laugh. There’s nothing that lights up his life more than being in Nicky’s presence.

Now, being in Nicky’s presence, feels like it’s all a distant memory, like a horrible nightmare he can’t quite wake up from. 

And there’s almost nothing he can do about it.

//

Nicky’s absence makes him a little angry.

There has got to be something he could have done. How did he not feel the mattress shift when Nicky left that morning? How did he not hear Nicky talking with Marcus right before his departure? They’re always so loud when they speak; Nicky must have been really quiet and careful.

Nicky’s absence makes him angry because Alex did absolutely nothing to stop him from leaving in the first place. It makes him angry because he still hasn’t found a way to fix it, hasn’t found a way to make it go away. 

What was Nicky thinking, just going out like that, by himself, when he’s  _ that _ important?

Still, there’s no way he’s giving up on finding him again - he’d rather give up his life first.

//

He isn’t the only one that Nicky’s absence takes a toll on, though. 

Everyone in the house is a little jumpy, eyes starting to look a little frantic and worn around the edges. Nate’s not his usual cheerful self. Instead, he’s quiet, dutifully working with the first wave of people searching for Nicky out on the streets. Jay’s eyes start looking more dull than Alex’s ever seen them. Holts starts mumbling more; only Andre has enough patience to try to figure out what he’s saying.

Alex hasn’t seen Andre smile in a long time.

But, despite how bad everyone looks, Marcus looks the worst. And sure, he should’ve let  _ someone else know _ where Nicky was going, but he’s family. Not only League Family, but Alex has considered him like blood family for a long time. He’s one of Nicky’s best friends, and that means a lot to Alex, too. 

He shouldn’t ever be sad.

“Up,” Alex says. Marcus is sitting on the floor, cross legged in front of a map red marker in hand, presumably to map out the points where Nicky could have been taken. “We need to get you out of here, going a little mad.”

“I’m fine, Alex,” he replies, circling another point in the map. “I’m just-”

Alex takes the red marker out of his hand, “Maybe with fresh head, you think better. Let’s go drink tea at best Russian place.”

Marcus hesitates, but gets up eventually, dusting himself off.

“If this isn’t the best Russian place, I’m telling Nicky when he gets back.”

The fact that Marcus uses  _ when  _ and not  _ if  _ makes Alex feel more at peace, more confident that Nicky’s going to come back.

//

It’s silent when they get to the place, only sounds coming from the kitchen, where the dishes are being washed and put away, and the service counter. 

Both of them immediately start looking around, careful to not rouse any suspicions. To the untrained eye, they look like either big company executives, in a hurry to get their tea in while on break, or lawyers in a rush to get their drinks before they have to go to work; no one’s ever accused the Washington Family of being modest.

They order their drinks - Marcus gets an apple cinnamon tea, with an extra shot of cinnamon, which makes Alex wince a little; Alex gets lemongrass - and sit in a booth near the back, closest to the biggest window in the place. The sun shines down on them, makes Alex feel warm, and nice. 

“Tell me about how you and Nicky met,” Marcus says, taking a sip of his tea.

Alex raises an eyebrow - he’s pretty sure Marcus has heard the story thousands of times. Not that Nicky likes to talk about it a whole lot, but he likes to talk to Marcus; it’s understandable because their native language comes easier to both of them. 

Alex tells him the story from the beginning, doesn’t leave out any details, no matter how minor. 

//

They’re both more noticeably relaxed when they come back, which shifts the mood in the house. Everyone starts breaking off into groups, bouncing ideas off one another, coming up with strategies to form “search groups,” as Lars suggests, to go look for Nicky anywhere they can. 

Mostly everyone is there, when Alex gets another Call.

He calls for everyone to keep quiet before he sets it on speakerphone.

This time it’s not some robot voice, telling Alex that it’s got Nicky, no, this time it’s Nicky himself, screaming out in agony, as if something searing hot is burning his skin. There’s someone laughing in the background, as Nicky continues to scream out in pain. Alex feels sick, suddenly feels lightheaded.

“This is what you get,” the voice says, cocky. “Your locks of Gold is suffering because of you, because of your greed and selfishness. He’ll continue to suffer until you’ve learned your lesson, which, for his sake, I hope is soon.”

The call disconnects before Alex can say anything, Nicky’s pained screams fading into silence. 

“I hope we find him soon,” Orly, who’s been quiet until now, says. “ _ Ya ub'yu etogo bol'nogo sukina syna s golymi rukami.” _

“ _ Ya takzhe.” _

//

Only the young children sleep well that night.

“I’ve seen this happen before,” Justin says shakily, breath uneven. “A friend of mine came to L.A. from Philly, looking for someone to help him since his Family kicked him to the curve,” he stops, takes the last sip of his coffee and goes on, “Someone had taken his boy, the light in his eyes, and he didn’t know  _ who.  _ Turns out the Philly Family had spoken some shit about the Columbus Family, so they just fucking took him. He was missing for eight months. I can’t...I can’t stand to see this happen again. Please tell me we’ve got some clue, at least a really small one, please.”

Nobody says a single word.

//

Alex is going over another city map with Holts and Orpik when Jay comes rumbling down the stairs, Andy in tow.

“Come on,” Jay says to Andy. “Tell them what you were telling me just now.”

“I don’t want them to think I’m eavesdropping,” Andy says, hesitant, only looking Jay in the eyes. “It was an accident - I was just coming down for more coffee and I heard you guys talking.”

“Don’t worry,” Alex says, anxious to hear what Andy has to say. “We never think you listen in on purpose; part of Family now. We trust you.”

Andy sighs, eyes shifting to Jay briefly before beginning:

“Ok, so I heard Justin talking about his friend in L.A. and the whole Columbus Family deal. Weren’t you guys in a race to close out a dealer Columbus was also trying to get, but you guys ended up getting it? What if taking Nicky is their revenge for that? I know it may be far-fetched but-”

“I don’t know how we didn’t think about that earlier,” Holts says, shocked, and Alex hasn’t ever heard him utter truer words. “It makes so much sense, Columbus has  _ always  _ had it out for us. They think we’re out to sabotage their deals, when it’s usually the League.”

“After what they did to Minny,” Alex scoffs. “I would be doing worse things than what League is doing now. I would kick out of League, but League like money too much for that to happen.”

“You can go back up now, I’ll be right there,” Jay says to Andy.

“Thank you for helping out Andy, much appreciated.”

Andy smiles before they head up the stairs.

“You know what?” Jay says, rubbing his chin, eyes on the floor. “It’s definitely Columbus.”

“You think so?” Holts asks.

“Who else has been calling Nicky ‘locks of Gold’ for the past decade?”

“Dubinsky,” Alex supplies, and the realization that Nicky’s in Columbus, hits him like a freight train.

“Exactly.”

//

They - save for Jay, Chorney, TJ, and Lars - pack up that same night, big guns tucked safely underneath their other luggage. Orly’s medical equipment has priority, so he gets a whole row in the van; no one has a single complaint.

“Please bring him back,” Abby says as the guys climb in the truck. “We need him back.”

Alex could not agree more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
> * _ya ub'yu etogo bol'nogo sukina syna s golymi rukami_ \- i will kill this sick son of a bitch w my bare hands  
>  * _Ya takzhe_ \- me too  
>  *****Disclaimer: these translations were done by google translate. If u know something is wrong/bothering u/could be put a better way, please let me know.
> 
> -like i said i literally wrote this in two hours total bc i was just so freakin inspired i started tapping away on my phone  
> -holts and burkie arent back together, andres just the only one who has enough patience to figure out holts mumbling, he just seems like that type of dude, yknow  
> -i literally know nothing abt tea, all i know is the kind i drink is apple and cinnamon tea, lemongrass tea, and green tea (which is my absolute favorite)  
> -mmm i love foreshadowing  
> -the “after what they did to minny” part refers to the cbj ending the wilds 12 (?) game win streak but obviously w different connotations like say murder?  
> -i just want nicky back home ok
> 
> i said screw the posting schedule im ~550 words from finishing the fourth chapter and i want to post everything close together so here you go *final chapter to be uploaded as soon as it's finished which is most likely sunday 05/02/17*
> 
> comments and kudos are always much appreciated!
> 
> remember u can always reach me over @ bckstrms on tumblr/twitter, id love to chat w all of u!


	4. still here, still standing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _a portrait of torture we paint_   
>  _beguiling allure whilst adorned in lace_   
>  _eternally the porcelain cracks_   
>  _a fatal passion forged in black_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> summary piece from _Puppets 3 (The Grand Finale)_ by motionless in white bc as i was writing notes for this, it occurred to me that this is the grand finale of this story and i was like “wait i shouldve named this chapter after miw’s song but since this whole series has been named after _570_ i couldnt interrupt the flow
> 
> also thanks to my friend gina for kind words and excitement shown for this story! u are awesome :)))
> 
> {see end for translations and misc. Stuff}

Nicky doesn’t cry when he sees Washington fade into the distance. He doesn’t know when he’ll be back, or even  _ if  _ he’ll be back at all. So, his expression remains the same through the entire trip. There’s no use in fighting back, he’ll accomplish nothing but waste his energy.

They don’t let him out of their sight, not even when they stop halfway for a bathroom break. One of the goons goes into the bathroom with him, and tells him he has two minutes before they head out, ready or not. He’s ready to go in a minute and a half. They ask him if he wants anything to eat, he doesn’t reply.

“Suit yourself,” they say, before they pay the cashier and head back out.

They drive for about four more hours before they stop at a house, similar to the one Nicky left behind in Washington.  _ Must be the Family home,  _ Nicky thinks, laughing at the thought that someone calls a place like this “home.” He gets glared at for it.

Dubinsky is in the house for a while before he comes back. “We’re taking him to Warehouse B,” he says to the goon on his left. “Cam and them cleared it out this morning, set everything up.”

The goon doesn’t say anything, but the smile he gives Dubinsky, sends shivers up Nicky’s spine. Nicky’s seen many things, he’s  _ done  _ many things, but something about their wordless exchange makes Nicky want to crawl in a ditch. Something about it makes him think his trip to Warehouse B won’t be a pleasant one.

Nicky’s not worried about his life - if it’s his time to go, he’ll go - he’s worried about the impact his trip to Warehouse B will have on the Family.

//

By the time they get to the warehouse, it’s dark out.

Dubinsky ties Nicky’s hands up with a zip tie, making sure there’s not a way he’ll be able to use his hands, that there’s not a way he can escape. They’re on really tight, almost painful, it makes Nicky slightly worried that when he leaves the warehouse, he won’t have his hands. 

“Staring at them won’t make them hurt any less,” Dubinsky says, almost dragging Nicky out of the van. “You understand why we have to keep you tied up, right?”

The way in which he asks that makes Nicky want to shoot the smirk right off his face. 

“You’re always so graceful, locks of Gold.”

“Stop calling me that,” Nicky bites out as they’re walking towards the warehouse. 

“Do you not like that nickname? Would you rather me give you another one or what?” he asks, and finally, pushes the doors to the warehouse open.

Nicky wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all, at how much the warehouse looks like what a normal civilian would expect a mob’s torture chamber to look like. There warehouse itself looks to be the size of a mall, maybe a couple of stories taller. There are horse stables left and right, hay littering the floor, the stench of humidity rampant. At the center of it all, there are chains falling from the ceiling, one of which has a rusty hook attached.

“Welcome to your new kingdom,” Dubinsky says, gesturing to the middle. “Locks of Gold.”

Nicky wants to throw up.

//

A couple of guys an eye on him while others lower the chains, which give way to a small wooden chair. It looks like an electric chair used in jails; it’s even got the cuffs to keep a person’s hands chained down to the arms of the chair. 

“Your throne, my sweet,” Dubinsky says, grabbing Nicky by the arm and pulling him up. Someone comes up behind Nicky and wraps a black cloth around his eyes. “Now,” he continues, leading to what Nicky can feel is the wooden chair. “We’re going to sit you right here, and we’re going to make a call. If you make a noise, call for help, or  _ anything,  _ something’s going to happen to that Russian husband of yours. Got it?”

Nicky can only nod. 

“Good. Wouldn’t want the same thing that happened to Minnesota’s guys happen to your guys, now would we?”

The dial tone sounds so loud, too loud, in the empty warehouse. Nicky’s heart almost stops when Alex finally picks up - it’s never not going to do that when he hears Alex’s voice, it’s an almost guaranteed reaction.

“Hello?” Alex asks, weary. 

Dubinsky puts on some machine over the phone. Someone digs a sharp blade in his side as Dubinsky begins to speak, cocky, as if he’s a step ahead of them. Nicky can’t help but scream out in pain, it just hurts so much, even more because it’s unexpected. 

“This is what you get,” he says, signaling for the person to dig the knife in again. Nicky yells even louder this time. “Your locks of Gold is suffering because of you, because of your greed and selfishness. He’ll continue to suffer until you’ve learned your lesson, which, for his sake, I hope is soon.”

He hangs up before Alex can say anything. 

The person digging the blade into his side leaves just as Nicky’s world starts getting blurry around the edges, slowly fading into nothing. 

//

It’s light out when Nicky comes back to. The entire left side of his torso is numb, seemingly put together by a white patch, shirt cut to reveal the white cloth. There’s blood that’s staining the cloth already,  _ been here for a long time then,  _ Nicky thinks, aching to call out to someone so they can replace the patch. 

Someone reads his mind, because a tall man with dirty-blonde hair comes out from somewhere behind him. He’s wearing black on black, shirt and jeans and shoes. There’s a comet-like figure, with a sort of American flag design on it, enveloping a grey star on the upper left side of his shirt. 

“Is hurt again?” he asks. Nicky can immediately tell he’s not from around Columbus, maybe from somewhere further away, an ocean apart; the fact makes his heart ache with longing. “Told him is no good idea to put knife in side, but  _ on ne slushal.”  _

He squats down, holds Nicky’s gaze to make sure it’s ok to probe the area. Nicky nods.

The man peels back the patch. Nicky feels nothing, his side’s still numb,  _ probably injected me with something,  _ he thinks. 

He touches the edges of the wound, checking for swelling.

“Is not hurt?” the man asks, worry creasing his eyes. 

Nicky doesn’t want to trust him, but the damn accent makes that almost impossible. 

“I can’t feel anything, so,” Nicky shrugs, but the cuffs make it hard to, pulling down on his skin. “I wouldn’t mind if I did, you know, I don’t care if it hurts - I can take it. They say being shot is a similar pain, and that’s happened so.”

“Can’t let that happen. Sorry,” he says, sealing the wound again. “Boss take me outside, shoot me in head. I be right back.”

He stands up, leaves without turning back. 

//

“I need to go to piss,” Nicky says, hopefully loud enough for someone to hear him - he hasn’t seen anyone in what feels like an hour. “Anyone there? Hello? I said I need-”

The same man who first checked on him, the one who cleaned his wound - maybe the Family doctor - comes in, making a dismissive gesture and saying, “Yeah, yeah, I hear.”

“Why did it take you so long then?” Nicky snaps, frankly, a little annoyed. 

“Just don’t try do something stupid, place surrounded; can’t escape if you wanted to. Don’t want you to die, ok?”

Nicky shrugs, living or dying, it’s all the last thing on his mind right now. All he wants is to be let go, to go back home so he can be sad in peace without the worry of possibly being shot in the head while he isn’t looking. It’s not about to happen any time soon, but it doesn’t hurt any to think about. 

He’s led through the back, out a wooden door with peeling red paint, or maybe that’s blood. Nicky can’t tell, doesn’t have enough time to take a closer look. There’s a wooded area at the back of the warehouse. The man points to his left, leaving Nicky to his business, leaning against the building as he stands watch. It makes Nicky feel slightly uncomfortable, slightly off, to be taking a piss in front of a man he doesn’t even know the name of. 

“What’s your name anyway?” Nicky asks, pretending to look around.  _ There’s no way out,  _ Nicky thinks, stomach sinking to the soles of his feet. “I can’t believe I’m about to pee in front of you, and I don’t even know your name.”

He laughs, and crosses his arms, “Just call me Bob, everyone call me that.” 

“Well,  _ Bob,  _ mind turning around so I can, you know, do what I need to?”

“Sorry, can’t do.”

That’s fine, he’s too weak to try anything, anyway. 

//

Dubinsky and another goon speak in front of him, arms crossed, the goon frantically waving his hands around. Nicky pretends to be asleep, and for the most part, he is. He just tries extra hard to not move as much, to not set them off. 

He catches the main gist of it -  _ his  _ boys,  _ Nicky’s boys,  _ are in Columbus. They’ve dispersed around the city, inadvertently getting in contact with their Family’s secret contacts, asking if they’ve seen anything, heard anything about where they might have Nicky. Of course,  _ of course,  _ the secret contacts haven’t said anything, haven’t given Nicky’s Family any clues, because they know how to keep their mouth shut, they know how to be loyal. The goon leaves, but not before Dubinsky tells him to  _ tell them to keep it up, if they talk they know what’s going to happen.  _

Nicky wants to hope that they’ll be able to find him without the help of those secret people. 

//

Nicky’s wound starts to hurt; it burns, and it feels like there are a thousand tiny needles sticking inside of him. He wants to call for help, but it seems like there’s no one around. He turns his head as much as he can, to no avail - it really seems like they’ve left him all by himself. If only he could escape the damn chair and make a run for it. 

“My side hurts,” he calls out; no one replies. “I think it’s infected or something.”

How could they have left him alone, like this?

They really must think he’s not at risk to free himself and escape. 

Finally, Bob appears from somewhere behind him. He’s wearing something else now, something that suggests he’d been relaxing - black basketball shorts and a heather grey t-shirt. Nicky doesn’t really care where he’s been, all he cares about is the pain on his side. 

At least Bob has some sort of first-aid kit with him. 

“Sorry about that,” he says, setting the kit down. “Had to go see Boss at the hospital, he not, not doing so good.”

Nicky wonders if the Family’s Boss is even aware that he’s there. 

Bob opens the kit and takes out some hand sanitizer. He pours some on his hands and quickly rubs it all over. Then, he reaches in and pulls on some white gloves. From what Nicky can see, Bob submerges a q-tip in a white plastic bottle. He dabs it around the edge of Nicky’s wound. 

Nicky winces - it burns like hell.

“Sorry,” Bob says, looking apologetic. 

He’s more careful as he makes his way entirely around the wound, eyes flicking to Nicky’s face, in constant alert of his pain. Bob blows lightly on Nicky, and at first it stings, but then it starts feeling cool and numb. 

“Everything seem fine, just need clean wound again and then patch. Does anything else hurt?”

Nicky shakes his head. 

“I am hungry, though,” he says as Bob’s packing up the kit. “I could use something to eat or at least, drink.”

“I get something.”

//

There’s nothing for Nicky to do; he can’t shower, can’t take a walk, can’t call his mom on the phone. He can’t do  _ anything.  _ He’s confined to a fucking wooden chair that he’s pretty sure someone’s died in, more than once. There’s also no one to talk to - they leave him alone for the most part - except for Bob, that’s  _ when  _ he comes around to clean Nicky’s wound. It’s looking a little better, by the second day, it doesn’t hurt as much, so Nicky counts that as a win. 

He feels frantic, ready to jump out of his skin, by the fourth day.

Is it possible that his Family’s given up hope, given up looking for him, and gone back to Washington?

Nicky shakes the thought out of his head, there’s no way they’ve given up.  _ Can’t let them take Sweden from  _ most important person in this Family, his brain supplies. That’s right, Alex  _ had _ told him that not only when the threat of the Pennsylvania and Michigan Families leaving the League loomed large, but many times before. Alex hasn’t been the only one that’s let him know how  _ important  _ he is to the Family, though. Everyone’s let him know at least once.

There’s no way they’re not out looking for him.

//

“Wake up, locks of Gold,” Dubinsky says, shaking him. “We need to make another call, and it would benefit you if you’re awake for it.”

Nicky sits up as straight as he can, ignoring the way Dubinsky’s growing grin makes him feel.

Bob comes in a few seconds later, the same device that Dubinsky had clipped on the phone during the first call. He’s frowning, looking very disapproving at what’s about to go down.

“You know  _ Kolya  _ not approve of this,” Bob says, and it makes Nicky’s heart skip a beat - that’s what  _ his  _ Alex calls him sometimes. 

“Yeah, well, he’s not here. Besides the reason he’s even plugged up over there is  _ their  _ fault, you know it is,” he says  _ their fault  _ like it leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He pitches his voice lower, gets closer to Bob before he continues, “You damn well know it’s  _ their  _ fault. So take your pick, is it going to be  _ our  _ Nick or  _ theirs?  _ Think about it.”

He takes the device from Bob, clips it on the phone and dials.

//

Nicky doesn’t say anything when they finally remove the cuffs. Bob and another guy help him up; his legs feel like jelly, and he’s wobbling a bit. They lead him out of the warehouse, and back into the same white van that initially brought him there, no zip ties this time. 

Even though it’s not a short drive - maybe about two hours? - no one talks the entire time, not even when they stop halfway to get gas. 

“You need a shower, my dear locks of Gold,” Dubinsky says when he’s helping Nicky out of the van, somewhat careful to not agitate his wound too much. “We’ll have to ask Jocelyne and them if you can use theirs. What size do you wear?” 

“Large all around,” Nicky mumbles.

“Very well. Be ready to meet more of your loyal subjects, your highness - behave like you know how.”

//

It turns out  _ Jocelyne and them  _ are the people who run the Family who deals with the Columbus Family the most. Jocelyne seems nice enough (she doesn’t pull a face when he gets close), but the men who stand behind her seem like they’re in the worst of moods at being woken up so early (to be fair, it could possibly be Nicky’s smell; he hasn’t showered in at least five days).

Jocelyne hands Nicky folded up clothes, some shorts and a t-shirt, and some clean underwear. She tells him to go upstairs, take a left,  _ and the bathroom should be the first door as soon as you turn. _

Nicky takes one last look at Dubinsky, who just makes a dismissive gesture, before he climbs all the way up the stairs. 

The floor looks similar to the one at his house, light green walls, filled with pictures; some seem to be of the Family hanging out, some of the Family at a lake, and some of the Family with children and significant others. Normally, pictures like these would warm Nicky’s heart, but it’s been days since he’s seen his own Family - he’s not about to coo and aww at pictures of another happy Family if he can’t have his own with him. 

//

Jocelyne’s the only one left when Nicky comes back down. She’s sitting in the living room, sipping on a cup of coffee, talking to a young man across from her, laughing at something the young man is saying, hands animated, making wild gestures as he tells her a story about someone in a coffee shop.

“That’s him,” Jocelyne says, still smiling. 

The man turns around, and Nicky has to take a step back - the man’s just so beautiful. His bright smile is a stark contrast against his dark brown skin. His eyes are hazel, although they appear mostly brown with a dash of green around the edges from where Nicky’s standing. The man’s hair is black, cut short, neat, just like his beard and mustache. 

Nicky looks at Jocelyne before the man can tell he’s been staring. 

“Nicklas,” Jocelyne says, which causes the man to shoot her a look of  _ are you sure that’s his name?  _ “This is Samuel. Sam, this is Nicklas. You’re in charge - don’t let him out of your sight.”

//

Samuel doesn’t let him out of his sight, just like he’d been instructed to. It makes Nicky feel slightly off, like he’s a child who can’t be trusted to do anything by himself; it frustrates the shit out of him. 

“Will you quit looking at me like that?” Nicky snaps, but doesn’t really mean it - having the attention of someone as good looking as Samuel is always an ego boost. “I’m not going to disappear or anything. You have me surrounded anyway.”

“But I hear you are so smart.” Samuel smirks and crosses his arms. “How do I not know you have something planned to get out of here? Maybe you have a plan to, how do you say, seduce your way out of here. I don’t know what you are capable of,  _ angel del cielo.” _

Nicky doesn’t know what  _ angel del cielo  _ means but it sends a chill down his spine.

They stare at each other for a while, before Sam breaks the silence with a slight chuckle.

“Come on, I was told I needed to change your bandage.”

The thought of Sam touching his bare skin makes Nicky shiver a little. He mentally scolds himself, though, he definitely should be talking to Alex about this first. Their agreement will always stand, unless Alex doesn’t want it to. Nicky has another thing, though, he always likes to let Alex know what he’s about to do, even if he doesn’t end up going through with it. It doesn’t matter to Nicky that Alex lets him know after the fact; Nicky trusts him completely. 

Alex isn’t with him, though, so Nicky calls out to him in thought. 

//

Nicky passes out on some couch, arms crossed in front of him, head tilted back. 

Sam wakes him up, shakes him saying, “Wake up. The Family will be here soon and we need to get you cleared out.”

Nicky doesn’t say anything, just goes.

“Where are you taking me?” Nicky asks, mentally kicking himself when his neck hurts as he turns to look at Sam. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to leave the house?”

“You can for this. Besides, we need to get you new clothes and some hair dye.”

“What do you mean you need to get me some  _ hair dye?” _

Sam shrugs, “I got instructions to dye your hair black. It is such a shame because you have such nice hair. Is it naturally blonde? Roots like those, I bet it is.”

He leads them outside through the back door, into a grey car. He drives them down a pathway to the left of the house that takes them onto an empty street. Sam, then, takes a right turn that leads them to a more crowded street. It’s not long before they merge onto the freeway.

Nicky looks at Sam for a while before he speaks up again.

“What do you mean I need to dye my hair black?” 

Sam looks in the back mirror before answering, “I am not supposed to be telling you this,” he sighs, “But, I like you, and word is Nicklas - not you, the Boss of the Columbus Family - is not even aware of it, so, I am going to do it anyway. Columbus has plans to keep you here for a long time.” Sam quickly glances at Nicky before focusing back on the road. “I do not know how long, but I do know it is a long time, so you will need a disguise.”

Nicky stays silent, doesn’t even look back at Sam. He turns his head and looks out the window; he wonders when he made the choice to come to America, would this even have happened back in Sweden? He starts to wonder when things started to go sour. 

When will he get to see his Family again?

//

There’s no black hair dye at the store, so Sam gets him the darkest shade of brown there is. It’s almost black, Nicky thinks, there’s no immediate difference. Sam pays at the counter, watching Nicky out of the corner of his eye. Nicky wants to laugh, he’s not at flight risk - he hasn’t been to Ohio enough times to know his way around. 

Sam thanks the cashier before they head out of the store.

“Are you hungry? I am very hungry,” Sam says after they climb back into the car. “What do you want?”

“Well, I would like to go back to my Family,” Nicky says, a little under his breath. Sam’s able to hear him, but he only chuckles. 

“You know I cannot do that. Would you like to eat some Mexican food? I know this great place just down the end of the highway.”

“I guess that would be ok. I don’t think I’ve had a proper meal in a couple of days.”

Sam hums.

“Are you allergic to anything?” he asks, merging onto the left lane.

“I don’t think so.”

“Good.”

They’re silent the rest of the way, only the sounds of other cars speeding by. It doesn’t take long to get there, and it takes even less to find a parking spot, despite the restaurant looking like it’s near capacity. 

The building is small, only as tall as a two story house. It’s built out of red brick with black roofing tiles. The doorframes are as black as the roofing tiles; there’s a sign above the main door that reads  _ Cocina de Leticia  _ in big, white letters. It looks cozy and inviting, and it distracts Nicky - at least for the time being - from the fact that he’s away from home. 

Sam holds the door open for him. 

Immediately, Nicky’s hit with the smell of onions frying, and then the sound of beans hitting a hot pan. 

_ “Hola,”  _ a short woman behind the counter says.  _ “Como les puedo ayudar hoy?” _

_ “Hola, buenas noches,”  _ Sam says, the words rolling off his tongue smoothly.  _ “Me puedes dar una mesa para dos?” _

_ “Si claro. Siganme, por favor.” _

She gets two menus from under the cash register, and motions for them to follow her. She sets the menus down on the table, but before she can say anything else, a bouncy, blonde woman shows up at her side. She tells her something, and then the woman from the counter leaves them.

“Hi, I am Victoria,” she says, getting her notepad from her apron. Her eyes widen, before her face breaks into a wide grin.  _ “Ay, Renti, no sabia que te gustaban los gueritos? Que, es bolillo o uno de tus Europeos?” _

_ “Ya ves,”  _ Sam replies before taking a seat; Nicky does the same. He has no clue what either of them are saying, and it’s slightly bothering him.  _ “Los gustos cambian. El es Sueco, está aquí de visita.” _

_ “Ah, bueno pues.  _ Sorry about that, like I said my name is Victoria, and I will be your server tonight. Can I get you started with anything to drink?”

“Yes, let me have a  _ jarrito de tamarindo,  _ and let him have a lemonade.”

Victoria nods, before she heads back to the counter. 

“What did someone as beautiful as you do to get involved with people as ugly as them?” Sam asks, it sounds like he’s mostly asking to himself, but it’s loud enough that it could also be directed towards Nicky. “I do not understand why they would want to keep you here, despite what you might have done.”

Nicky blushes, keeps his head down when he replies, “I don’t know either. I just want to go back home, to my husband, to my Family. I miss them so much.”

“Trust me, if it was just me, I would help you escape, but please understand that it is not the case; Jocelyne is my mother and I cannot let them do anything to her.”

They spend the rest of the night in silence. 

//

When they get back to the house, the back is packed full of cars, only some free space for the cars back out safely. 

“The Family is still here,” Sam says as he carefully parks the car next to a blue minivan. “They are all very nosy, so just take the bag and go upstairs. You can go into the room with the green door. I will be up there as soon as I can, ok?”

Nicky nods. 

Sam walks him into the house with a hand on his lower back. It gets them strange looks from everyone, but Nicky ignores them; he goes upstairs and enters the room with the green door. It’s not much different from the room he shares with Alex, the only difference is the color scheme, and the amount of pillows on the bed. 

He sits and looks around, and wonders what the Family might be doing - are they any closer to finding him? He wonders who came from Washington to look for him? Nicky hopes it’s not all of them because then who’s looking after the significant others and their children?

Nicky just wants to go back home. 

“What are you thinking about?” Sam asks, he’s leaning against the doorway, arms crossed in front of him. “Is it how ugly my room is?”

They both laugh, settling into a comfortable silence. 

It’s a while before either of them says anything. 

“Do I really need to dye my hair black?” Nicky asks. “I haven’t had a major hair change like that my entire life; I’ve always had the same haircolor and style since I was born.”

“Well, it is not black hair color - it is just really dark brown. But, we do have to dye your hair; they are direct orders from uptop.”

Nicky sighs, “Well, we might as well just get on with it then.”

“I promise to make it a fun time,” Sam says, with a smile that makes Nicky warm all over. 

Sam stands up first, and offers a hand to help Nicky up. His hand feels oddly calming, some sort of steadiness than what the last days have been. Sam doesn’t let go until he motions for Nicky to sit on the edge of the bathtub. He takes the contents - the brush, the clear bottle, the packet of hair dye, and the instruction manual - out of the box, placing them carefully around the sink. He untwists the cap from the bottle and sets it down, then tears the packet open with his teeth; it makes Nicky wince. 

“That’s so gross,” Nicky laughs, as Sam wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You could’ve bit into the dye. I don’t think that tastes very good.”

“Well, there are no scissors around.” Sam smiles, and it crinkles his eyes; Nicky has to look away, then. “You have to do your best with what you have, right?”

Nicky only nods.

//

Nicky runs his hands through his hair, again, for the tenth time - his hair just looks so different, he can’t help it. It doesn’t look bad, but after years and years of having golden hair, seeing himself with dark, almost black, hair looks odd, a little out of place. 

Sam’s standing behind him, smiling, clearly proud of his work. 

“You look good, very handsome,” he says. “I think this would be a good change, maybe your husband will like it.”

“You think so?” 

“Yes, and if he does not, then you can come be my husband instead.”

Nicky’s eyes widen, he grips the sink so hard his knuckles turn white. He finds Sam’s eyes in the mirror, and they’re looking back at him, intense as ever. There’s nothing Nicky can say, because Sam’s turning him around, cupping his face with both hands, looking for any sign of  _ no. _

Nicky can’t find the strength, or willpower to say no, so he just closes his eyes and waits.

Sam’s lips are softer than how they look.

“Think about it,” Sam says.

//

Nicky’s up all night, the same thoughts in his head: 

_ Is this wrong? _

_ I thought I was the only one feeling this way. _

_ I’m sorry Alex.  _

//

Sam gets touchier, his eyes linger on Nicky even more. Part of Nicky feels odd, feels like he’s betraying Alex in some way, even though he’s going to tell him all about it once he gets back home; he’s not going to hide this from him. But, the other part basks in all the attention Sam gives him - he even lets Sam hold his hand in the grocery aisle. 

It’s new and soft, and something he didn’t really get to experience with Alex. 

He’s always been an outsider, someone who always got to watch this happen, but never got to experience it himself. 

“You look really good here next to the chip bags,” Sam says, the same night he holds Nicky’s hand in the grocery store. “I think it is the brown bag that really brings out your hair.”

“God, you’re so cheesy,” Nicky says. “Who even says that?”

“Me, I say that. And do not tell me you do not like it.”

“I said no such thing.”

//

When they get back to the house, Nicky freezes at the sight of the black van parked in front; he’d recognize it anywhere, in his dreams, blindfolded, and in the dark - it’s the Family van,  _ his  _ Family van.

“Holy shit, they’re here,” Nicky whispers.

“Who are  _ they?”  _ Sam asks.

“My Family.”

“Shit.”

Nicky doesn’t wait for Sam to get out of the car, because he’s rushing outside, running up to the house, and bursting in. Alex, and what seem to be the rest of the Family, are sitting and standing all around the living room, talking calmly to Jocelyne. 

“Nicky,” Alex says, standing up as soon as he sees him. “Oh my god, you here.”

They rush to each other like magnets, and Alex hugs him so tight, Nicky’s sure that he breaks a few of his ribs. He doesn’t care though, he’d be willing to break every single bone in his body just to be held by Alex again. He’d missed this, them, being so close together that he can feel Alex’s heartbeat. The way things had been going, Nicky felt like he was starting to lose that.

Nicky buries his head in Alex’s shoulder, “I can’t believe you guys are here. I missed you so much.”

“I’m sorry it took us so long to find you,  _ Kolya,  _ it wasn’t easy,” Alex says, lowering his voice so it’s low enough only for Nicky to hear. Nicky doesn’t think he does a very good job anyway. “Did you know Columbus Boss not even know about you being here?”

That makes Nicky’s stomach drop - something like this, taking a person from another Family without consent from the League, is going to cost everyone else involved, including those who helped them.

“What’s going to happen?” Nicky asks at the same time Sam walks in. 

“Maybe termination of  _ this  _ Family, don’t know about Columbus, maybe worse.”

Nicky looks at Sam, “I’m sorry.”

Sam shakes his head, with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “It is ok, Nicky, it was about time for me and my mother to go live the simple life we lived before we came to America. I will be just fine.”

//

Before they leave, Sam pulls him outside. They look at each other in silence, kicking rocks around instead of speaking to each other.

“So, I guess this is it,” Sam says as he sticks his hands in his pockets. “I meant everything that I said to you, I meant everything that I did with you. We were not together for long, but I loved every minute of it, from the time I first saw you until now. I know you are probably thinking,  _ wow, how can he possibly feel this way after such short time together?  _ I did not know it was possible either,” he takes a deep breath and continues, “but here we are. I do not know how you really feel about me, but I do know that you feel  _ something,  _ so give me a chance.”

Nicky feels pained; he’s sure his voice reflects the same, “That’s the thing. I  _ do  _ feel something, but Alex is my husband; we’ve known each other for a long time. I’m very confused because I feel something for the both of you, but I just don’t know what to do.” 

“Promise me you will think about it, at least.”

“I promise.”

Sam hugs Nicky tight, and kisses his cheek before they go back in. 

Inside, Alex is handing back a yellow note and a pen to Jocelyne.

“If you need anything, the first number is mine, the second is Nicklas, and third is Brooks,” Alex says. “Thank you for taking care of my  _ Kolya,  _ I know you guys were just following orders.”

“I wish there was something else we could have done,” Jocelyne says. “But I’m glad Nicklas is going back home now.”

“We’re glad too.”

//

Despite Alex insisting that Nicky sleeps on their way back, Nicky can’t seem to calm down enough to close his eyes for more than five seconds. His mind keeps working its way back to what Sam told him before the Family left: did Sam really feel that strongly for Nicklas? Why else would he have asked Nicky to give him a chance?

Nicky lifts his head from where it’s been resting on Alex’s shoulder the past hour. He looks around and sees that everyone - except for Holts, who’s driving, and Burkie, who’s keeping him company - is asleep. He feels at home with these guys, feels like he belongs. But what he had with Sam, as brief as it may have been, was something he didn’t really get to experience before, not even that year he dated more than he ever had in his life. 

Is he willing to leave all of this behind to chase something new and fresh?

He doesn’t really want to do that. His feelings for Sam are something different and separate from the feelings he has for Alex. Sam made him feel young again, not that he’s all that old, but still. He made him feel like maybe there is a world outside of Washington, like people outside of it  _ can  _ care about him, and make him feel special and wanted. 

His feelings for Alex are something more. Alex makes him feel at home, he makes him feel safe and at peace when he’s near. Alex has been a constant in Nicky’s life for so long that he can’t imagine what his life would be like without him. Alex makes Nicky feel like the only person in the world when he looks at him, like nothing matters, like nothing’s ever mattered.

Alex is the love of Nicky’s life, but that doesn’t mean his feelings for Sam will go away in the blink of an eye.

//

It’s still dark, though not far away from sunrise, when they get back to Washington. Alex and Kuzy help Orly unload his medical equipment, as the rest of them unloaded the rest of the luggage. Between all of them, it doesn’t take long. 

Jay, Chorns, TJ, and Lars are up waiting for them, looking visibly nervous as they sit around the coffee table in the living room. 

“Nicky,” they say in unison. 

“Oh my god, you’re back,” Jay says, rushing to Nicky’s side, and wrapping him in a hug. “God, you don’t know how much we missed you.”

“I know,” Nicky replies, returning the hug. “I’m sorry for leaving you guys like that. They just, they took me and I didn’t really have time to get back to you guys. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Chorney says. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“He’s right,” Lars chimes in. “You should probably rest now, you’ve been away for a long time.”

“I agree,” Alex says, wrapping his fingers around Nicky’s wrist.  _ “Kolya  _ needs some sleep. We talk to him tomorrow, ok?”

Nobody objects.

//

Alex showers first, doesn’t take all that long. Nicky showers after him, his wound is almost completely healed. Going back outside makes him a little nervous because he knows he’s going to have to talk to Alex about what happened between him and Sam - Nicky still hasn’t made up his mind about that. 

Nicky gets out of the shower, already dressed, but still it makes Alex smile so hard his eyes crinkle around the edges. 

“You look so different,” he says. “Good, but different. I miss your blonde hair, honestly, but this nice change.”

“Thank you,” Nicky replies, toweling his hair dry. 

He lays the towel over the bathroom door, and grabs the hairbrush off the sink before sitting next to Alex.

“We need to talk about some things that happened in Ohio,” Nicky begins, ignoring the way his stomach feels. He needs to talk to Alex about this; they’ve never kept much from each other. Alex deserves nothing less than honesty from Nicky. 

“No, obviously, you have long day. Maybe wait for tomorrow?”

“No, we need to talk about this today. I really don’t want to drag this out longer.”

Alex motions for Nicky to continue.

“There were some things that happened in Ohio that really confused me. Out of all the people that were near me, only three treated me like I was a person; Samuel was one of them. Things happened and, well, one thing led to another, and I have feelings for him, Alex,  _ romantic  _ feelings.”

Nicky has to turn away then, he’s nervous about the way Alex might react.

“And did you sleep with him?” Alex asks, careful. 

“No, of course not. You know I would talk to you about that first.”

Alex makes a small, considering noise, and then falls silent.

_ “Kolya,”  _ he calls, grabbing Nicky’s left hand, the one where his ring should be. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I understand things happen, and that’s just how life is. Honestly, I don’t think I can handle you be romantically involved with anyone else but me, but I’m not get in way of your happiness.” Nicky has to look at him then, knot in his throat and all. “Maybe you not want to be with me anymore, and want to be with him, I will support that. Not mean I like it, but I will support you because you are the most important person in my life. If you want be with him, I will let you go. Just know that I love you.”

Alex looks so earnest, tears well up in Nicky’s eyes, his throat closes up.

“So you don’t hate me?” he asks, small and quiet. 

“Of course not,” Alex says, softly caressing Nicky’s cheek; it makes Nicky feel so dumb for ever thinking Alex could. “I could never hate you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
> *on ne slushal - he did not listen  
> *angel del cielo - angel of the sky  
> *hola como les puedo ayudar hoy - hi, how may i help you today  
> *hola, buenas noches - hello, good evening  
> *me puedes dar una mesa para dos, por favor - can i have/get a table for two, please  
> *si claro, siganme por favor - yes, of course, follow me  
> *Ay, Renti, no sabia que te gustaban los gueritos? Que, es bolillo o uno de tus Europeos? - damn, Renti, i didnt know you liked white boys. What, is he a (white) american or one of your europeans?  
> *ya ves, Los gustos cambian. El es Sueco, está aquí de visita - well u see, tastes (in people) change. Hes swedish, here on a visit/vacation  
> *ah bueno pues - ok well, then
> 
> *****Disclaimer: the russian and swedish translations were done by google translate. If u know something is wrong/bothering u/could be put a better way, please let me know. Any spanish was done by me.
> 
> -i tagged for medical inaccuracies bc unless i know from personal experience everything is either google’d or speculated upon, i am not a medical professional nor am i working to become one (im currently in the process of getting my degree in paralegal studies, and i eventually want to specialize in family law so) sorry if this causes an inconvenience for u  
> -note: this occurs in the winter but i basically didnt touch on it bc it’s a texas winter (even though theyre not in texas at any point in the story) aka non existent, hence why i didnt really say anything about the weather  
> -this was originally meant to be nicky dealing w the sadness but it turned into something completely different from that im sorry  
> -only the main Family (aka the nhl clubs) are the ones that live in one house and the Families they deal w (aka their ahl affiliates) live in different homes, close by  
> -a lot of the dialogue in spanish has been written based on how my family and i speak, it’s how most people i know speak as well  
> -the term _bolillo_ is one used (as far as im aware) by mexicans in reference to white americans or anyone perceived to be a white american; it’s also a type of bread (i think thats where the term came from? Bc the bread is white and so is their skin? Dont quote me on that)  
>  -the term _guerito_ is used in reference to fair skinned/blonde haired people; can be used as a term of endearment  
>  -victoria calls sam “renti” bc sams last name is _renteria_ and thats what i figured would be a diminutive (again, dont quote me on that)  
>  -a _jarrito de tamarindo_ is a mexican tamarind flavored soda (the official name of the drink is _jarritos_ and they are delicious); a _jarro_ is a mug/cup/jar thing  
>  -of course this series is NOT DONE and like excluding [dtt](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9349175/chapters/21176939) id say im maybe halfway done maybe? (dont quote me on that)  
> -i didnt expect this chapter to be this long like i originally had a 5785 target word count and i went over it which i hope u guys enjoy
> 
> as always thank u sm for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos. those are very much appreciated!
> 
> reach me @ bckstrms on tumblr if u wanna talk about this fic, the caps, or anything in general!

**Author's Note:**

>  **translations:**  
>  * _Ty v poryadke_ \- are you ok?  
>  * _Vad händer_ \- whats happening/whats going on?  
>  * _Jag lämnar för ett par dagar_ \- im leaving for a few days  
>  * _Jag kommer att hålla kontakten, du inte berätta för någon_ \- i will keep in touch, please do not tell anyone  
>  * _Vart ska du_ \- where are you going?  
>  * _Är du okej_ \- are you ok?  
>  * _Jag bra bara inte berätta för någon, okej_ \- im fine/ok, just do not tell anyone ok?  
>  * _okej_ \- ok  
>  *****Disclaimer: these translations were done by google translate. If u something is wrong/bothering u/could be put a better way, please let me know.
> 
> -i wrote how nickys feeling based on how i feel most of the time because i found it helps to put my feelings into words  
> -im sorry for breaking andre and holts up  
> -im tagging everything from the beginning so if u guys want to skip this piece u are more than welcome to  
> -im sorry if u like dubinsky but he strikes me the wrong way and also that part was written the night the caps broke the cbj’s 16 game win streak  
> -nicky still has very blonde hair in this bc why not
> 
> Posting for lpts:  
> Part 1 - **12.01.2017**  
>  Part 2 - **24.01.2017**  
>  Part 3 - **05.02.2017**  
>  Part 4 - **18.02.2017**
> 
> comments and kudos are much appreciated!
> 
> reach me over @ **bckstrms** on tumblr/twitter if u have any questions or just want to chat!


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